


This Growing Darkness

by tigereyes45



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anger, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hawke has anger issues, dealing with life and new emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29315916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigereyes45/pseuds/tigereyes45
Summary: Varric has been watching Hawke since their first battle together, but as she cuts this man down there's something new to her actions. A new brutality in the way she fights. In fact, the longer he watches the more he notices how she's acting as if they are still in the deep roads.
Relationships: Female Hawke/Varric Tethras, Hawke/Varric Tethras
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3
Collections: Hightown Funk 2020





	1. She's changed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JellyDishes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyDishes/gifts).



It didn't take Hawke throwing a pocket knife into the eye socket of a bastard who was holding Merrill captive for anyone to know that something was wrong. The throw was risky. Too risky for a warrior with the aim of an archer with a lazy eye to attempt. Yet there she went. Luckily she made the shot. Her old pocket knife planted itself right in the bastard's right eye socket. Squealing like a pig he let Merrill go. As his hands pulled the knife free, Hawke took her Archon blade and drove it through his chest. His death wasn't instant, but it was faster than the blood loss would've been.

That wasn't the first hint of something wrong, but it was the moment they all were forced to look at Hawke differently. Not because of the violence. Varric and Aveline had seen warriors in the field do far worse. In fact he's wagered a guess Anders and Fenris had done worse. It was more so because of the feeling coming off of her. Anger comes off her in waves making the air around her tense. It was so palpable that the hair on the back of his neck stood on end anytime he got to close to her. What was so different about that fight was how careless she had been with Merrill's life. If it wasn't for Hawke's unmatched luck, that knife could've just as easily planted itself in Merrill's shoulder, or far worst. With that thought he squeezes Merrill's hand comfortingly. Leading her away Varric looks over his shoulder.

Hawke pulls her sword free with an ease that much come naturally to warriors. Blood cascades from the open chest wound. It decorates her boots. Not that Hawke even took notice of it. She grabs her pocket knife, holding the whole body up by barely grasping her smallest weapon. Carelessly she pulls it free, not even flinching as the body makes a soft crunching sound. The man's middle opens as his body bends in on itself. Varric fights back the shiver that crawls down his spine.

He has to do something. Otherwise this situation with Hawke will just become direr. Varric pats Merrill's back as starts to walk faster. He fights the urge to match her speed. Instead he lets her go and she takes off back towards the city. An urge to do the same hits him. Varric doesn't act on it. He looks back and as Aveline offers Hawke a rag his eyes catch on the blood smeared across her nose. The mark is drying and starting to peel. It's a darker red compared to the rest covering her. Nearly black, like the darkspawn she killed before making that mark.

Hawke pushes Aveline's hand away. For a moment he's back in the deep roads. Hawke is pushing Bethany away. Her fire magic sputtered out from her staff nearly burning the both of them. He was lucky to get out of that place with even just one Hawke. Now when he thinks back its clear how they were never going to make it out with both of them.


	2. This Eternal Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter from Hawke's point of view that explores why she's so angry. Grief, despair, just simple hot-headedness amplified, no one explanation is so simple for this powerful warrior. How else is someone supposed to feel when their life just keeps getting turned upside down.

Hawke was halfway through moving her mother into their ancestral mansion when Varric came calling. After they had cleared out the bandits with Bethany's help it had taken a few months for the papers to actually go up for sale. Just long enough for the warrior to wonder if her efforts had even been worth it. Then finally Leandra came home with the splendid news. It was the second time Hawke had ever seen her mother sweat. The first being when they were running from the blight. The drops of sweat were quick to meld with the tears in her memory. Now as Hawke looks back she can't remember what was from their struggle and what was from Carver's death.

He didn't bother knocking. Or perhaps he had and she was so busy moving the furniture around that she hadn't heard him. Thankfully the slavers that had been in the mansion before hadn't destroyed everything. So all the new furniture was really just beds and chairs that Leandra didn't trust. It was actually the chairs in front of the fireplace she had been placing when he coughed loudly and made his presence known.

"You have shitty timing." She'll have to lock the door next time.

He picks at the dirt under his nails. The need to keep moving them powerful even without a pen or arrow between his large fingers. "Most say my timing is impeccable." Like that time he had stopped that thief."Most just want to get on the good side of the real head of power behind House Tethras." No point in stroking his ego. It was plenty large enough."Ouch Hawke. Going straight for my heart I see." She drops the chair. Her mother had been very clear about what way she wanted them to be set up, but the warrior could barely bring herself to care anymore for the trivia details. It was inconsequential anyways. If mother didn't like them she could always move them herself. Meanwhile, she had just finished carrying half a dozen chairs before these two, and she was tired.

"Mother always said a way to a man's heart was a gorgeous outfit and pretty words," she falls without grace over the side of the chair. "I find words do plenty of the work and they don't always have to be eloquent."

"True, true." Varric walks around the other chair next to hers. He rubs his fingers along its arm as if trying to tell if the chair is comfortable enough from the expensive fabric sewn into it. Honestly, Hawke thought they were too gaudy. Mother enjoyed them though. With everything that has gone wrong in their lives, she deserves whatever nice things she wants. If it made returning home easier then Hawke would give it. Finally, he stops feeling up the chair and takes a seat himself. That's just like him. Varric drags everything out. "Best to leave the flowery language to us professionals."

"How goes your writings Varric?"

"Well. Better nowadays." He doesn't bring up how he's only really starting writing long novels again after meeting her and Aveline. He doesn't need to. Hawke's been in his room plenty often enough to snoop. She knows the manuscripts he's working on now are different from his past projects. They're inspired. Honestly knowing that she inspires his writing would be enough to feed her ego, if she was the only one.

Hawke hates sharing. Even when it's just someone's attention. Maybe she's selfish. Maybe it comes from her childhood and watching Bethany always run off with their father to practice magic, while Carver got babied by Leandra. He was the youngest by two minutes. Yet that two minutes was enough for him to earn a special place in her heart. A place even now Hawke can't reach. She can't even heal the hole that has replaced that love that used to be in it. Now with even Bethany gone.

"If you look at fireplace like that any longer it might just spontaneously combust."

"If only. Perhaps I've had magic this entire time."

"The circle housing another Hawke. If that were to happen I suppose time would rhyme."

"If that was the case then my only regret is that my dear sister and father are not here to witness me ascend to such great heights with my newfound magical abilities."

Varric rolls his eyes but slowly takes a deep breath. Hawke glances over her knees towards him. The strawberry red tint to his hair is obvious in this light. Those dim barely existing strands of light just barely getting through the thick red curtains color him in a way she's never seen before. Or perhaps she just hadn't noticed between all the blood that usually covers them. It colors their hair and skin in shades she'll never forget because even after she scrubs away all those stains, some never leave her mind. It's the dark red blotches that covered her arms as she moved Carver's body towards the side of the road. The tear-shaped drops that stain the outside of her hands from when she held Bethany's face. Right after she collapsed. When they realized it wasn't the headwound that caused her fatigue, but the darkspawn taint inside of her. Infecting and killing her from the inside out. The exact opposite way the darkspawn had killed Carver.

She still feels the rage that filled and fueled her at that moment. It's pushing her on. Just as it had back in the deep roads. Up here the enemies aren't always so clear. Already her mother was planning her debut in high society. Despite the fact that Hawke already knows quite a few of the upper class in Kirkwall. Hightown wasn't any safer than Lowtown when one thinks about it. The dangers are just better hidden up here. Snakes in tall grass versus wolves feeding on scraps.

"How about we go for a walk?" His voice is soft but purposeful. It's low but echoes like they're sitting in a cave instead of her new living room.

"What?"

Varric groans as he stands back up. If she didn't know better Hawke would think he's an old man sounding like that. He looks at her and his beautiful brown eyes hold a glint in them. He planned this. She can tell that before he even offers her his smile. Not the signature one he wears whenever he's come out on the better side of a deal, or when something has gone his way. No from the way the corners of his smile are soft, and how that smile actually reaches his eyes making the glint in them from before brighter, she knows it's genuine.

"From that smile, I think you heard me." Hawke brings her hand up to hide her lips. She hadn't even realized she was smiling. Damn him. He can't just let something slip by. Not when it's the perfect kind of low-hanging fruit. Varric walks closer to her with his arm out. "Forgive my poor manners miss, but may this poor sod enjoy your company on a quick stroll. The sun's lovely today. Not too hot thanks to a gentle breeze in the air."

Her brain physically hurts from all the force she rolled her eyes with. If he started talking to her like she was one of these pompous pricks that were Hightown born and bred then he may just become unbearable. Best to nip this right in the bud. Hawke pushes him away. She's careful not to put too much force behind it. After all, she didn't want to hurt him. Even though he was acting a right fool.

"If you start that up I won't so much as step foot in The Hanged Man with you, let alone go for a walk."

Varric laughs and pulls his arm away. She pretends not to notice him rubbing at his shoulders. Was she not careful enough? Guilt starts to rise up in her gut, nearly silencing her. Then the anger from before returns and she can't help but wonder how any of them had even managed to survive the deep roads if that could hurt him. It's not a fair thought, but life wasn't fair. Why should she be? If it was then Bethany and Carver would still be,

"So is that a no on the walk?"

"Let's go." She didn't want to be in this house anyways. It was filled with everything she had ever dreamed of having when she was young, yet it was still so barren. So spacious. Lots of things have threatened to suffocate Hawke before. Emptiness was never one of them. It's a strange, new emotion to deal with, and of course, her mind wanders while she's here. It goes to all the places that don't matter. All the questions she can never answer. Would this place feel so empty if Bethany and Carver were here?

She wishes her father was still alive.

Hawke grabs her sword. Its tip was still stained with blood from the fight they had yesterday. She should've cleaned it when she got home but she was so exhausted. Every step through the city took more effort than the last. Why was her body so strained? She's not sure, but it's one more thing that has her on edge. Hawke fucking hates being on edge. It's like she's waiting for a fight she scheduled with some local assholes. Except there's no fight. Well, none that was planned. If they make a trip to Darktown can fix that. Besides she needed to make sure Anders was staying out of trouble anyways. That mage attracts danger like honey attracts flies. Though what else did he expect when he refused to hide that staff of his?

Varric stands patiently by the front door as she finishes getting ready. "Do you really need armor to go for a walk?"

"Do you really need Bianca strapped to your back every time you step outside of your room?" He bows his head before looking out towards the door.

"Fair enough."

"At least my sword's not named after a man I once knew."

He bites his lip pouting for a second before smiling a wry smile. "To be fair Archon blade is far more intimidating than 'Ahh! Feel the wrath of Sven, or Eric' or, what's a Ferelden name?"

She rubs her chin pretending to think deeply about that. "Nathaniel?" She came up with the name rather quickly. Her thoughts instead pondered just why he was saying ‘fair’ so much today.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry my dear Nathaniel! I got blood all over your point." He shouts as he opens the door.

"Don't let Isabelle hear that one."

"Ah it does sound a bit strange I admit." He makes a big show of looking around as she locks the door. "Hope the neighbors didn't hear that one."

She could feel the sun on her the back of her neck. He was right. Today felt great. "So what if they do. If they come round to complain it just helps mother meet the neighbors faster."

He laughs. How long has it been since she was the cause of someone laughing? Her heart aches before her mind realizes. It was before they handed Bethany over to the grey wardens. "I see you aren't going to make her job any easier."

She bites her tongue to keep from lashing out. She has done everything she could to make life easier. Yet Leandra wants more. They all did. She just can't be that well-mannered kid. Not like Bethany. Hawke was never like that. "I've made things plenty easy. So where too first?" Before Varric answers she stops off towards the market stalls. Darktown was sounding better by the second.


End file.
